


the tiniest of nods

by larryhaylik



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Anxiety, Fluff, M/M, Marking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 06:47:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5656522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larryhaylik/pseuds/larryhaylik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They met, they fell, they dated and Derek didn't say a word when he heard the hitch in Stiles' heartbeat as Stiles explained why they were no longer toghether.</p><p>But Derek remembers and maybe... so does Stiles?</p>
            </blockquote>





	the tiniest of nods

**Author's Note:**

> It lurked in the back of my mind for some time, so why should I not write it down, right?
> 
> Please enjoy.

"I don't want to calm down! Don't you dare to tell me to calm down! There's a dead fucking body behind the house and its murderer is scattered, _scattered_ on the front porch! How the Hell am I supposed to stay calm?!"

Stiles' arms flailed wildly as his voice raised from frantic muttering to full-on panicked screaming. Derek could see the hectic flush that covered Stiles' face and surely his chest too, rising along with his pulse. It had that staccato rhythm of a butterfly trapped inside a house, beating its wings desperately against the window.

Derek stayed silent. 

"You said the plan was to distract them and then quietly kill them, not a word about buckets of blood and bits of flesh and bones poking out of everything, and all of it laying in front of our house like decorative Christmas reindeer!"

The pulse of Stiles' blood was visible on his neck, fast and frantic, the pitch of his voice climbed. Derek stepped forward, reaching out to touch Stiles' shoulder, but Stiles jumped away like a little, frightened animal would when confronted with danger.

"Don't, okay, just don't, I'm freaking out, okay?! There's... There are bodies and they are- they are-"

Stiles blinked several times, swaying slightly on his feet as if he was drugged. Not caring about the previous rejection, Derek ran forward, just in time to catch falling Stiles in his arms, sitting him down on a couch. Stiles was gasping for breath, holding one hand to his chest and grasping Derek's arm painfully with the other.

Not that Derek cared much. There was a teenager freaking out on him, you see.

What the Hell was he supposed to do?!

"Stiles, Stiles, look at me, you hear me? Calm down. Breathe, okay? Just breathe." As far as Derek could tell, his words did literally nothing to improve the situation. This had never happened while they were together, so no, no pointers or directions that would result from experience.

So Derek dealt with it the only way he knew how.

Stiles yelled as loud as he could while running out of breath when a sharp claw dug into the straining muscle of his thigh.

Withdrawing his hand, Derek watched Stiles slump down and resume regular breathing. That went... well?

"I'll- I'll kill you for that- once I- once I can," Stiles gasped, slapping in the vague direction of Derek. Derek snorted.

"Yeah.)," he said softly, blushing a little as guilt caught up with him nonetheless, "you do that."

Gathering Stiles into his arms, he lifted him up and began to walk.

"'Tcha doing?" Stiles muttered quietly, sounding as tired as if he had just run sixty miles. The resemblance to sleepy kitten was so striking Derek felt like stopping in the kitchen and get a bowl of milk. He also felt that Stiles would probably not appreciate the sentiment.

"Bringing you to bed," Derek replied, making his way up the stairs and to Stiles' bedroom, a route he had taken a million times. Once there, he gently laid Stiles down on the covers (instead of simply dumping him down as he would have done if they were still together), pulling his jeans off and tucking him under a blanket.

"Where are you going?" Stiles slurred when he noticed the not so subtle movement of Derek nearing the door. "Stay."

Which. Tempting. Also slightly inappropriate? Derek shook his head. "I should go."

"Stay." Stiles' voice was so thin and weak it scared Derek for a moment. "Please?" Stiles blinked, all long lashes and dark Bambi-like eyes.

At least he tried, right.

Stepping closer to the bed, Derek reached out hesitantly and took Stiles' hand into his own. Stiles - contrary to Derek without a glimpse of hesitation - pulled. Although his strength was nothing compared to what Derek could muster and it would be very easy for Derek to resist, he let himself be dragged down. Laying next to Stiles, he could feel the way the younger boy trembled.

Derek sighed. "Come here," he said, spreading his arms.

Well, don't judge him. Broken up or not, he still knew when Stiles needed contact.

Gladly, Stiles took the opportunity and wedged himself beneath Derek's chin, breathing him in. God, how Derek missed this. Missed having Stiles near, relishing in his warmth and scent, missed the steadiness his heart could have when he stopped and relaxed for a second, the way he fit into his shape so easily.

Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles' smaller, more fragile frame and held tight as long as it took for Stiles to stop shaking like a flame in the wind.

Stiles exhaled slowly. "Thanks," he said before he slipped off into sleep, clinging to Derek for dear life.

It took some time before Derek persuaded himself that it was perfectly alright to stay with Stiles, but he managed to find peace and drifted off as well.

Derek woke up as sharply as if someone had screamed right into his ear. For a minute, he was disoriented, but once he found Stiles, he found steadiness, and everything was okay.

Everything but Stiles.

Stiles' heart was racing like crazy, and although he didn't move a single inch, Derek could tell he was running. Or, more likely, fleeing something. Someone?

"Stiles. Stiles, wake up, c'mon, wake up," Derek repeated, trying to shake Stiles awake.

"No. _No,_ " Stiles whispered. Then screamed.

"Stiles!"

"No! Don't!"

"Stiles, wake up!"

"Don't, no, don't -" With a rush of breath Stiles bolted upright, eyes wild. He scrabbled around until he found Derek's hand and squeezed. "Oh God. _Oh God._ "

"You okay?" Derek asked calmly, even though he could feel the tremor in his own heartbeat. Scared. Scared not _of something_ , but _for someone_. How long had it been?

"Yeah, yeah, I just- just-" Stiles stared at Derek as if he saw him for the first time. Then he leaned in and kissed him.

A surprised moan came out of Derek's throat.

"Stiles, Stiles, what are you d-"

Whatever Derek had to say clearly did not concern Stiles. Derek struggled for a while, but honestly, it was probably the feeblest struggling he did in his _life_.

Because why should he not? He missed and ached and... Stiles' lips felt so good against his own, Stiles' body pressed along his, small but fierce, set to speak its mind.

Derek slid his hands up underneath Stiles' shirt and dug his fingers into the soft skin. Gripping tightly, he laid them down, leaving Stiles on the top.

Slightly out of breath, Stiles sat up, resting all of his weight on Derek's abdomen, making Derek gasp. Reaching behind his head, Stiles tugged his shirt off and led Derek's hands up from his hips to his belly, chest, guiding him as long as it took for Derek to catch up with the point. Then he ran his palms along Stiles' skin by himself, relishing in the softness and warmth. His wolf, though, his wolf wanted to scratch instead of caress. Not to hurt Stiles, just to leave a permanent mark.

Derek could do that; slightly less permanently but very satisfactorily nonetheless.

Sitting up, Derek moved his hands to Stiles' neck and tilted his head with his thumb. The patches of pale skin shone in the darkness like a beacon and Derek couldn't resist. His lips found the skin first, dotting it with little kisses. Then his teeth called for their part and Derek bit down. Stiles' shuddering intake of breath echoed in the otherwise silent room and Derek bit again, just to hear it, leaving behind a trail of little red marks which would later blossom into purple-red Derek-shaped bruises that would remind Stiles who did he belong to.

Derek's mind recalled to him the memory of their breaking up. Derek's wolf soon and effectively tramped it down.

Stiles' fingers scrabbled on the hem of Derek's shirt and within few seconds managed to pull it off, trailing fingertips up Derek's sides, sometimes caressing, raising goosebumps, sometimes scratching, leaving Derek breathless and painfully hard.

There was only so much teasing Derek could handle in one go. When the string snapped, he pushed Stiles backwards, so the boy was on his back between Derek's spread thighs, Stiles' legs propped up and framing each side of Derek, leaving Stiles open and somewhat vulnerable. And he was a sight to behold. Derek's eyes travelled up and down his figure, drinking him in. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark boxer-briefs, all composed on planes of milky white skin. 

"I wanna leave a mark," Derek rasped out slowly, looking Stiles in the eye.

"Haven't you already?" Stiles touched his neck gingerly in the place where Derek bit him. Derek growled low in his throat.

"Wanna mark you more. Leave bruises and scratches and fucked-up hair and swollen lips and my scent all over you, so every time you meet Scott, or Boyd, or Erica, they'll know you're mine. That I touched your skin and kissed your lips and marked you for everyone to see." Derek's words were followed by Stiles' trembling moan, and a wave of arousal hit Derek full in face.

A deep growl made its way out of Derek's throat, reverberating throughout the room. Derek slid his hands underneath Stiles and lifted him up, while he himself leaned down, meeting halfway and leaving Stiles helplessly resting on Derek's arms.

They kissed not like it was the last time, but as if it was their first. It sure felt like a first to Derek, after so long of being banned from touching Stiles the way he wanted to. He poured all of his hurt into it until there was none left and only then the kiss became something more; became a prelude.

"Derek," Stiles whispered into the kiss. It sounded like a plea. "I want to-"

"I know," Derek whispered, shivering at the pure _need_ that bled from Stiles' voice. "So do I."

"So come _on_ ," Stiles said, flailing his hands until he found leverage on Derek's shoulders and pulled himself upright, straddling Derek and bumping their groins together.

Groaning, Derek drew Stiles as close as possible, burying his nose into the crook of Stiles' neck, breathing him in. Stiles' fingers threaded into Derek's hair and tugged until they faced each other.

"I know you can smell it. So stop waiting. Stop holding back." With every word, Stiles tugged harder, tilting Derek's head to the side. "I want to." Stiles finished and sank his teeth above Derek's pulse point.

God, did Derek want that as well. Stiles' scent and words, they all pushed him and drove him mad and he _craved_.

Getting Stiles out of his underwear took about the same amount of time as it did for Stiles to pop open the button of Derek's jeans. Once blessedly naked and laying on the bed, Stiles swung back on the top of Derek, simply because it felt good and because Derek wanted him too. 

Tracing patterns with his fingertips on the skin of Derek's hipbones, Stiles traced a line down Derek's chest with his tongue and smirked at Derek's involuntary groan. Taking Derek's cock in his hands, Stiles stroked and watched with hooded eyes as Derek's face contorted, his lips opened on a silent moan.

Gathering himself, Derek reached out and run his fingers along the headboard, looking for that small hiding place where Stiles kept the lube. Gripping the bottle and pulling it out, Derek began to coat his fingers. Stiles spoke up.

"No. Too much time. Don't need it."

Derek shook his head. "Just let me. Please?" He added when Stiles opened his mouth once more.

They stared at each other for a moment. Then Stiles gave the tiniest of nods and Derek sat up properly.

With his clean hand Derek clutched Stiles' hip and drew him closer, skin whispering where they touched. The other sneaked beneath Stiles, the fingertips running along his balls, behind them and over his hole, making Stiles shudder and thrust in an attempt to get Derek in. The tight pucker gave in when Derek pressed, the finger sliding smoothly in. The low raspy sound that came out of Derek's mouth felt like an answer, even though no question had been asked. 

"More," Stiles whined and rocked his hips, "quicker. Want you."

Moaning, Derek rested his head on Stiles' shoulder and pressed in another, moving them fast and bathing in the sounds Stiles let slip. It seemed like a dream to Derek. Surely this wasn't happening. Just his imagination going wild.

Only, Derek learnt to rely on his senses. And his senses told him that his favourite scent, summer in the forest and new book and apple, surrounded him on all sides, that the texture of the skin under his fingertips was familiar and alive and so, so real.

Sooner then Derek would like, Stiles dug his nails into Derek's thigh, urging him to _move the fuck on_.

Pulling his fingers out with a dirty sound, Derek lubed himself and waited impatiently 'til Stiles figured where to put which limb and how he should brace and balance as to not hurt Derek. Once he did, he pushed Derek down unceremoniously, watching him with that intense look on his face as he sank down on Derek.

Derek held still, granting Stiles the time he needed, even though it meant tightly clenched teeth and nearly tearing the sheets; he didn't want to hurt Stiles. He knew, somewhere in the corner of his mind, that the fear was irrational - they always fit together, why would this time be different? Still, he'd rather be careful now than regret later.

Only, Stiles did not seem to want _careful_.

Moving as if he owned the situation ( _And he did_ , Derek thought), Stiles set a quick, dirty pace, rocking his hips in harsh, short bursts, digging his nails into his palms so hard his knuckles turned white.

Derek reached out for those hands and gently pried them open, letting Stiles claw on his own; after all, he would heal. 

And the pain felt extraordinarily good combined with pleasure.

Derek's back arched up when Stiles gave a particularly hard drop, leaving Derek gasping for breath. He pulled himself up to kiss Stiles, to bite on his skin, and most importantly, to better hear his racing heart.

"Derek," Stiles whined pitifully as he pushed himself into Derek's mouth.

"I know," Derek rasped out, his voice a complete mess. "C'mon." He untangled their fingers to brace his hands on the bed and push into Stiles.

"No, that's not-" Stiles choked, swaying as the force of Derek's thrust knocked him up. "Oh God, Derek-"

"C'mon, Stiles," Derek said. He could feel the fragile tremble in the air, wave after wave of sparkling warmth. "Touch yourself."

As if he was waiting for permission the whole time, Stiles did, crying out, and tightening around Derek, dragging him along over the edge.

"Stiles." Breathing hard, Derek reached out to rest his palm against Stiles' cheek. Stiles pushed into it and turning his head kissed Derek's skin.

"I-" Stiles' breath hitched. It sounded suspiciously like a sob. "Derek, I-"

Derek could hear Stiles' heartbeat stuttering. In a second, he was holding Stiles in his arms, hugging him impossibly close. Running a hand along Stiles' sweaty back, Derek silently waited until Stiles' breath evened out.

"I still love you," Stiles blurted out. For a moment, everything seemed frozen.

"Is that so bad?" Derek whispered into Stiles' hair. His scent had changed - still so very Stiles, but also a little resin and rain; a little Derek.

"I don't think you understand." Stiles shook his head frantically. "I broke the things off. I left you. It's so selfish to tell you I love you I can't even comprehend how you haven't left already."

"You don't have to. Comprehend, that is," Derek replied softly, drawing far enough to see Stiles in the face. "I'm not going."

He leaned in to kiss Stiles, threading his fingers gently through Stiles' hair and giving an occasional soft tug every now and then.

"I don't think I ever will."

**Author's Note:**

> This thing is unbeta-ed and English is not my first language, so it would be so very nice of you if you pointed out any mistakes? Please? *puppy eyes*


End file.
